Watching You
by elana-chan
Summary: (YAOI)(YxO)A certain blond playboy's thoughts as he watches our favorite chibi...


Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss and any of its characters. Hope you like this one! The _italicized part_ is a third-person point of view to avoid confusion with the first-person POV.

**Watching You**

by elana-chan

* * *

I couldn't help it.

I want to watch you.

My eyes would follow your every move, taking note of the unconscious grace that you exude as you move about the shop. You don't know it but you move with the grace of a dancer. Every motion controlled and limber, every step a testament to your thorough elegance. You would surely pout and look at me with an indignant expression when you would hear these thoughts of mine.

I couldn't help it.

I want to watch you.

My eyes would trace those beautiful features that only an angel, untainted of sin and blood, could possess. I still had a hard time accepting the fact that such an innocent soul like yours would be tainted by the blood of others. I had a hard time accepting the fact that the gods above had let such innocence be stained by the life blood of the vile creatures in this earth. The gods must have a grudge on me. First, they took such a bright soul from me. Now, they send another such soul to be slowly corrupted and destroyed right before my very eyes. How can these gods let go of someone with such a bright and pure soul such as yours and feed them to the evils of the world? The gods must have been crazy to let you go.

I couldn't help it.

I want to watch you.

My eyes would trail those delicate yet callused hands of yours as they tended each flower in the shop. Those hands that had been callused from training with your weapon of choice, from long hours on the keyboard researching to assist in the formation of the best strategies in missions. Those hands that had felt and ended the pulse of other men.

How those same hands held each flower, each plant with such care that I would sometimes think twice whether those hands really belong to an assassin. How those same hands that had ended many lives at such a young age could create such a wonderful thing as the bouquets that regulars have been often requesting.

I couldn't help it.

I want to watch you.

But what I want to see the most, the one thing that I had patiently been waiting to glimpse in the film that is your life, is your smile. You have so many smiles; it's your mask after all. But what I'm always wishing to see when I watch you is 'that' smile. The smile that makes your eyes sparkle with such pure emotion. The smile that would make the edges of your eyes crinkle slightly, the corners of your mouth tilt just a tiny bit and make the dimple on your left cheek appear. It's the smile that says you're truly happy, that the shadows that seem to cloud your every smile have disappeared momentarily to let the ethereal in you show.

I want to banish those shadows forever but we all know that is impossible with the lives that we live today. The only thing I can do is to be there for you and keep those shadows at bay. You might think that I do these because we only have ourselves to comfort each other, but that's not really the reason. I know my reason is a selfish one. I want to be the only one to keep those shadows at bay. I want to be the only one who could make you smile that ethereal smile. I want to be the only one who is at the receiving end of that smile I love so much.

Why would I want all of these? Why would I want to watch you? Why would I want to be the only one who may see that smile? The one who could make you smile?

Because I love you.

Will you ever see me, Omi? Will you see me not as Youji-kun, the older brother, the rakish playboy, but as Kudou Youji, the man who is hopelessly in love with you?

I couldn't help it.

I want to watch you.

**I want to watch you and see you watching me.**

Will you ever see me, Omi?

* * *

"Youji-kun"

I turn away from the magazine I had been reading for an indeterminate amount of time. Boredom makes me do such horrid things. My hands have been itching for a cigarette but the Ice Prince had imposed the no-smoking rule inside the shop, in pain of a very pointy death, if you get my drift. I sigh as I look at the clock. Only a few seconds after the minute hand pointed to four. Our shift's not over yet.

"Yeah, Omittchi?"

* * *

_Instead of the usual pout and indignant whine that the youngest member of their group would utter, Omi gave the tall playboy 'that' smile._

"_I see you, Youji."_

_Youji's green eyes widened as he looked into knowing blue eyes. The shock wore off, replaced by an emotion that warmed the look on the older man's suddenly shining emerald eyes._

_No words were needed as a kiss told what needed to be said._

**OWARI

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**Author's Notes:**

This is my first (and maybe last) Weiss fic. I've always loved this pairing and since a friend of mine (cough: Jo-9tails: cough) pestered me to write a fic in this fandom to boost my non-existent ego and equally non-existent self-confidence, I decided to give it a try. Well, here's the finished product. I hope you people enjoyed this fic. Ignore the typos and the grammar. I'm sleepy when I made this. My inspirational hit just went into overdrive while I was finishing another fic in another fandom and this is the product of that excess inspiration. I guess sugar high had a hand in the making of this fic, too. Well, hope you like it! Should I make a sequel? I'm thinking of doing Omi's POV. But then again, I might be too lazy or too swamped with other projects to do this one. Thanks for taking the time to read this fic!

P.S. I know that this fic is yaoi still I dedicate this fic to our dear beloved Pope who had recently passed away. I really love him and I'm going to miss him. (sniff)


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